Awkward
by Chikku-Chikku
Summary: Starscream and Hot Shot realize how awkward first times can be. Especially when their bodies aren't even compatible with each other. Armada 'verse, Starscream/Hot Shot.


**A/N:** You know that plot bunny that just won't leave you alone no matter what, pestering you for weeks on end and causing you sleepless, anxious nights? Well, yeah, this is it- the result of my really long obsession with Armada Starscream/Hot Shot (they're just so cute!) and the nagging thought of how awkward they would be together. I mean, look at Starscream's body and tell me you don't think that their smex would be all like "omfg, sorry! didn't mean to poke you there!" And I always wondered what would happen if a couple didn't have compatible modes, like grounders and flyers were made specifically to mate with their own kind...

Meh, idk what my 12 - 5 am mind was thinking, but here it is! Warnings for phail plug'n'play and all that whatnot. Enjoy, and tell me whatcha think :3

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><p><strong>Awkward<strong>

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><p>"Umm, how <em>are<em> we actually gonna do this?"

It's Hot Shot who first voices the question one night as they stand in Starscream's dark quarters. The ex-Decepticon, who had just been making sure his door was locked, stops in his fumbling to look at the Autobot.

They stare at one another in silence.

Hot Shot gestures at his body, then Starscream's, and frowns. His blue optics skim over the Seeker's red and white plating, across the _very_ sharp and defined curves, then travel towards the center cockpit, which protrudes ever so violently from Starscream's large and bulky form. He glances down at his own bulky yet less spiky format, at his contrasting yellow armor, and wonders exactly how this is going to work.

Will their components even _fit_ together right?

"Uh," Starscream coughs and shifts his leg. "We'll find a way, somehow..."

(Admittedly, Starscream has to give his partner some props for being the one to bring up the issue; it's been bothering him for awhile now too, ever since he began his 'relationship' with the yellow car three days ago, but he never really worked up the courage to ask.)

Hot Shot just stares at him some more. "Starscream," he says slowly. "Have you _seen_ us?"

"Yes," the Seeker grumbles, annoyed. "Who _hasn't_?"

"We don't even look right together..." Hot Shot trails off and looks away, refusing to admit how much the issue really bothers him.

Their relationship had begun as a rocky one in the first place (Hot Shot often wonders how they'd even managed to convert their initial hatred into the love they held now) and with each new problem that arose, it was getting harder and harder to believe that this 'relationship' would work out. They were almost complete opposites – him being a grounder and Autobot and Starscream being a flyer and (ex) Decepticon... Sometimes Hot Shot thinks it was a mistake confessing his feelings to the haughty and reserved Seeker.

Starscream notices some of this doubt in his partner's dejected stance and takes a step forward, lightly touching Hot Shot on his shoulder. Orange optics soften ever so slightly as he whispers, "But it's okay. I've seen much stranger and more _difficult_ pairings than us."

Black fingers slide down golden plating, the act a sensual yet hesitant one. Hot Shot shivers from the contact, completely different from the previous platonic touch. He rises his gaze up to meet Starscream's hopeful yet nervous look. "It's my first time, you know," the yellow car murmurs, catching Starscream's other hand and holding onto it.

The Seeker leans in closer, until his helm rests on top of Hot Shot's domed one. "Mine too," he says with a chuckle.

And he knows how awkward first times can be.

Even now, Starscream can feel the uncomfortable bump of his cockpit against Hot Shot's crisscross-patterned chest. He notices how the jutted section of his legs just slightly grazes Hot Shot's armor and quickly moves back a step to allow space between their bodies. The sudden movement causes Hot Shot to cant his head to the side, the hand holding his gripping tighter and urging him to come back. "Didn't know if that was hurting you or not," Starscream mumbles in apology, positioning himself to where his legs were between Hot Shot's and not directly against the Autobot's own legs.

Hot Shot just grins and shakes his head. "Nope," he ignores Starscream's continued hesitancy and presses their body flushed together. The slam of metal against metal fills the quiet room with a screech, and Starscream can't help but flinch at the sudden force of their contact.

His partner's optics dim slowly as they stare at each other. "Can I kiss you?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

As soon as the words leave him, Starscream tilts his head at the same time Hot Shot does and they lean in, lips searching for each other. He expects to meet soft, smooth metal and taste the sweet flavor of his partner's mouth, their first kiss sealing the blooming start of a lovely relationship. What Starscream didn't count on was how they both leaned to the same side, mirroring one another until the tip of both of their helms clanged together, evoking yelps of pain as they jolt away, mouths nowhere near their intended destination.

"Heh, sorry."

They give each other an embarrassed smile and this time, Starscream claims left and Hot Shot right.

The kiss is slow and difficult as they fumble around, both trying to gain dominance with glossa and denta, but drawing energon and pain by accident. Their roaming hands are just as inexperienced, grasping one another sharply, missing all the most pleasurable hotspots while grazing the most uncomfortable ones. When they pull back, panting for breath, Hot Shot notices the grimace on Starscream's face as he licks away stray blood, and can't control his own wince at the memory of the jet awkwardly touching his sensitive armor.

After several moments of careful contact and more uncertain touches, Starscream's finds his optics roaming around the room and landing on the berth. He shoots a glance at Hot Shot and nudges him discreetly.

"Shall we?" the jet says in a soft voice.

"Yeah," his partner grins, "Definitely."

Starscream takes the first step, guiding Hot Shot over to his bed and firmly (if not, nervously) pushing his partner down onto his back to establish the dominant role. He notices the flash of annoyance crossing the yellow car's optics, mouth open in complaint, before leaning down to rest a head on his partner's. Their gazes meet as Starscream ghosts a still awkward yet warm kiss over Hot Shot's lips, hands roaming over the domed section of his face, an obvious sweet spot.

Soft sighs escape Hot Shot as Starscream caresses him gently, light fingers skimming over sensors on his forehead and grazing sensitive wires between the seams of his shoulders, neck, and arms. It's almost enough to make him forget the fact that his partner's cockpit is still painfully embedded into his chest and that Starscream's armored legs are scraping his coat of paint and sending waves of pain throughout his body.

Almost.

He just can't control his grunt of irritation when Starscream presses up just a little too roughly and the edge of his thrusters slam against Hot Shot's face and optics. "Starscream-" Hot Shot begins, his hands, previously on the jet's arm, fly into the air with discomfort, struggling to push Starscream out of his line of vision. Without realizing it, his flailing fingers latch onto Starscream's unstable left wing, putting enough pressure on the sensitive spot to make his partner moan loudly... and detach the winged component.

The sword-wing falls without dignity right on his face, before bouncing off the smooth, metallic surface and onto the floor.

There's a silence as Hot Shot blinks in shock and Starscream stops in his body-claiming conquest to stare down at his severed limb. Then...

"Woops," the Seeker says in embarrassment. "Sorry." Without a word, he moves off Hot Shot and over the berth to retrieve his prized weapon, put it back in place, and turn around to his partner again...

He comes face to face with strained and annoyed blue optics.

"What's wrong?" Starscream asks, knowing exactly what was wrong.

Hot Shot doesn't say anything at first, only sits up and motions for him to sit as well. Starscream complies quickly, positioning his legs and shoulders to where they didn't protrude as much against the Autobot. It only half worked on the cramped berth.

"Sorry," the Seeker mumbles again as he tries to not be so awkward and space-consuming.

"It's okay..." Hot Shot smiles weakly. "But Starscream..."

The Seeker looks up at Hot Shot's hesitant tone of voice.

"Can we skip the foreplay and just... you know..." He trails off.

Starscream laughs nervously and nods. "Sure, of course. Whatever you feel comfortable with..."

_And here begins another awkward session of fumbling_, Hot Shot couldn't help but think.

Starscream reaches for his interface panel, running a heated hand over the surface and evoking a groan from his vocalizer. As Hot Shot allows him access, Starscream's own panel opens as well, and they both arch into each other, hands scrabbling to grab their cables and plug into the other's port. Hot Shot is sure they can't mess this up, since there is only one place where a cable will fit into an interface panel...

But he's not totally surprised by the sense of dread he feels when Starscream inserts himself in and a static shock immediately shoots throughout him. It doesn't stop Hot Shot from doing the same though, and it's only with slightly cynical acceptance that he embraces the discomfort and shoves his own cable deep into Starscream's port.

"Ow!" Starscream yelps almost instantly. A tremor runs down his frame and Hot Shot feels the vibrations deep in his very core. Pain and slight pleasure ripple between them as a barrage of sensations flow through their jointed link-ups. Hot Shot doesn't know much about interfacing, but he knows that, with all the emotions and thoughts he's receiving from Starscream, this shouldn't feel so... _uncomfortable_.

Dangerous sparks fly from both their plugged cables and jolt them wildly as they attempt to merge and synchronize their minds together. As he brings his body closer to Starscream, mouth open and gasping in either pain or pleasure (he's not sure which anymore), Hot Shot catches enough glimpses of the Seeker's mind to register all the jumbled emotions in the chaotic yet orderly processor.

He can sense the confusion ever present in Starscream's spark, the fear of his rejection and hatred, the immense longing to share something deeper and more intimate than this with him, the deep, apologetic regret for messing up on their first night together...

And then, _affection_.

A wild, almost unexplainable attraction to him. One that made no sense to the universe and everyone around them, sometimes even to themselves. But it was there, even if the feeling only lasted for one half of a nanosecond.

For a moment, Hot Shot is too stunned by this emotion to notice the way his HUD is flashing red warning signs and how the text _'System: Incompatible'_ flies across his CPU. He feels scorching heat sear everywhere through his body and even more radiating off of Starscream, but instead of pulling away, he presses himself closer to the jet. More sparks jump between them, dancing along their joined and approaching-overload cables.

"We're not compatiable..." Starscream manages to chuckle as his arms wrap around Hot Shot, head resting on the yellow car's dome. "Grounders and flyers don't mix."

"You're right," Hot Shot murmurs. He grins, albeit a dazed and sloppy-looking one, and with one last burst of energy, sends a wave of returning affection and a rainbow of sensations over to Starscream. The Seeker gasps in shock, unwittingly grazing Hot Shot's cheek with his shoulders as he trembles from the pleasure. This time, rather than jerk back in annoyance at the infliction, Hot Shot leans forward to cover Starscream's mouth in his own, glossa skimming across delicious metal.

"But I don't care," he whispers right into the Seeker's audio.

The overload happens in a single, painful burst of ecstasy. Without warning, their frames shudder with frighteningly high, pent-up energy. Shouts fill the air as metal parts clang against one another, both shivering and spasming as they simultaneously offline. Their cables retract at once, as though the very presence of the other abhorred them, but their bodies remain flushed tight.

They find themselves this way a few joors later. Limbs sprawled haphazardly across each other, a combination of white, red, and yellow that, for some very strange reason, seem to mash together perfectly. Almost naturally.

Hot Shot comes back online first and discovers those white and red arms wrapped quite too tight around him. His face is right on top of Starscream's cockpit, awkwardly leaning to the side in a dopey manner, the Seeker's thrusters irritating the sensitive tip of his head. He finds sharp, spiky protrusions from his partner chafing more of the paint on the back of his leg and sighs wearily.

_It's probably going to be like every time..._

When those orange optics light up with life and slight agitation (probably at the pressure of his weight on Starscream's wings), he can't help but shake his head. "That was the most awkward experience of my life," Hot Shot comments softly, laughing.

He doesn't miss the slight hurt in Starscream's optics, but responds with only a smile, snuggling into his partner as close as he can. The intimacy is awkward, sure, but as it is with everything else in the universe, Hot Shot knows that the feeling will eventually thaw out into a more familiar and comfortable one. Even now, he's beginning to enjoy the bulky feel of the cockpit underneath him, relishing the warmth he receives from Starscream's larger frame.

His optics slowly soften as he caresses the side of the Seeker's face and grins, "But you know, I think I can get used to it."


End file.
